


Meet the Savagewoofers

by Missy



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Allergies, Beginnings, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Humor, Saving the Day, Undercover as Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2238423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy and Jake go undercover as a married couple to protect the mayor from rogue librarians after he cuts their funding.  Jake's bay seasoning allergy forces Amy to go it semi-alone in the field - and brings up some unexpected feelings for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet the Savagewoofers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myrifique](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrifique/gifts).



> Written for Sitcomathon in '14!

The assignment was a simple one. Pose as a married couple during a high-class dinner party, and try to stay close to the mayor and his wife, thereby keeping them from harm from the librarians who are very mad at them for cutting their budget. The cover IDs were Reginald and June Savagewoofer, they were second-generation alpaca herders. They were Australian – Amy had practiced the accent for hours at a time in front of the mirror at home - and they were absolutely bourgeois. “As long as we keep this together,” Amy said, “we won’t have to deal with the crab cakes.” Which, incidentally, looked revolting.

“All right,” Jake said. “No worry, no crabcakes, no nothing,” he said. They sat taller in their chairs, coughing, straightening their ties and trying to reflect a certain posh jejune knowledgeability that the Savagewoofers would certainly embody.

Of course it didn’t run smoothly. How could it? Jake never did any prep work and he worked better on the fly – in the middle of the cocktail hour the Savagewoofers became furriers and their money grew progressively less old, and for some reason Reginald was from Texas. She started feeding Jake copious amounts of salmon croquettes to keep him quiet between blandishments about cigars rolled upon the thighs of virgins, and he ate them with less and less relish as time went on. It served him right, she decided, making small talk with the mayor’s wife about the skiing in Lake Asspid.

“Did you mean Aspen?”

“If that’s what you meant,” Amy smiled wanly. That was when Jake distracted her by sneezing loudly and frequently. She replied by edging her way through the crowd, trying to reach him as quickly as possible.

Jake huddled by the foot of the table, trying to seem nonchalant as he sneezed with what he apparently hoped was sophistication, then forced out a fake laugh as Amy passed him a paisley kerchief from her bag. “DREADFULLY sorry. Terrible allergies this time of year and all that.” He eyeballed the orchid-strewn table, as if counting the items there and trying to figure out what had sent him over the edge.

“My husband has a very sensitive proboscis,” said Amy.

“And a very sensitive nose,” added Jake. She glowered and pulled him away from the table, so they could talk in private.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think there’s bay seasoning in those salmon croquettes!”

“Of course there’s bay seasoning in them! So?”

“So I’m allergic to bay seasoning! I know it’s hard for perfect people like you to believe, but some of us have FWAWS.” He gaped at the sound of his own voice. “Owhnnow, my tongue’s swelling upth!”

Pity itched at Amy’s nerves; she forced herself to look upon Jake with kinder eyes and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Stay calm and I’ll get us through this.”

Her fingers wrapped neatly around Jake’s middle one. Amy kept the sophisticated chatter to a minimum and continued to check Jake for signs of worsening allergies. It was sort of admirable, how he’d try to hide his questions behind glasses of water and buried his sneezes into napkins. Occasionally, he’d squeeze her fingers to get her attention, and Amy would focus on a passing patron.

It seemed as though the night would pass uneventfully, when suddenly a flash of pink lit up the right side of her vision. Jake tried to yank her to the floor by her wrist, and she saw him reach for his gun – and that the fingers of his other had were too swollen to pull the trigger. Amy had just enough time to wing the protester with her service revolver as she hit the floor. The woman fell to the ground holding her ankle, the copy of War and Peace she’d been brandishing as a weapon sliding from her grip. 

During the ensuing mêlée, Amy managed to cuff the woman and drag her out of the building with a now-wheezing Jake draped over her left shoulder. Sitting in the cruiser, she called for backup and then clambered through the glove compartment until she found what would relieve Jake. Before he could complain, she jabbed him in the thigh with the epipen. 

“Owth!” he said. Then he raised an eyebrow. “That wasth kina kooth, Amy. For a jerky-jerkfathe.”

“Thanks, Peralta…I think.”

He nodded his head slowly. “I’m gonna sleepth on your shoulder now, kay, Amy?”

That was how the paramedics found them a few moments later.

 

***

Later at the hospital, the doctors gave her credit for her quick thinking. Everyone from the station stopped by to look in on Jake and to congratulate Amy on her collar before leaving them alone. 

“I could have totally taken them,” Jake said.

“No offense, Jake, but with your swollen fingers and your hives I don’t think you could have taken down a fly!”

“I dare you! Next fly we see is totally getting its ass handed to it!”

“Pft. I don’t think you can take anything in your cute little dress,” she said.

“It’s a _hospital gown._ God, didn't you learn anything in college?” Amy rolled her eyes and started walking away. “Hey, Santiago!”

“Yeah?”

He held out his arms. “Uh. Thanks for saving my life a couple of times.”

She accepted the hug. 

The kiss that followed shut him up for a little while. She’d have to remember to deploy that tactic the next time she wanted a little peace and quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction uses characters from **Brooklyn Nine-Nine** , all of whom are the property of **Fox Television**. No money was gained from the writing of this fanfiction and all are used under the strictures of of the Berne Convention.


End file.
